Red Roses
by HR always live on
Summary: A HR one shot, set during S9. Ruth has flowers delivered at work, but they're not from Harry.


**I am still having a break, but I was sorting through my computers hard drive and found this one shot I never posted. Enjoy! Set somewhere in S9.**

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><p>Ruth sighed, rubbing her temples in quiet frustration. The Russians had updated their FSB system and it was proving incredibly difficult to hack. Or at least hack anonymously. She was loathe to ask Tariq for help, especially as she'd always been able to slip in and out of the system as and when she wanted. As long as she didn't overstay her welcome, they hadn't been able to trace her as she read the information she wanted. Now it was becoming infuriating that one of her talents seemed to be failing her.<p>

"Ruth?" She looked up to see Beth calling her and smiled at the flowers in her arms.

"Who're they for?" Ruth asked.

"You, according to the card," Beth said. "The doorman gave them to me to take up." Ruth smiled and took the beautiful red roses from her friend. There were a dozen and she took the card, opening the envelope and reading it.

_Ruth, thank you for your delightful company over dinner last night. See you at the weekend. Robert._

"Is there something you want to tell us?" Beth asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Not really," she said, putting the roses down with a smile. "Someone knows how to treat a lady, that's all."

"Oh really?" Beth said with a smile. "Harry?"

"No," she said, the smile falling from her face. Her eyes flicked towards his office and she bit her lip. The blinds were open and she could see him watching her. She felt a brief flicker of guilt and smothered it. Harry had been ignoring her for weeks now, ever since that ill timed marriage proposal. She'd said no to marriage, but not no to their relationship. But he'd stopped speaking to her, and she'd begun to wonder if she'd wasted years waiting for a man who didn't want her, just the idea of her rather than the real person. Who'd never want _her_. So when Robert asked her to dinner she hadn't spoken her knee jerk reaction of no. Instead she'd thought about it, and heard herself saying yes. And had a surprisingly good time with a man who wanted to listen to her. Who cared about her opinions and who didn't spend his days staring at her across the grid with smouldering hazel eyes.

She hadn't expected the bouquet of flowers to arrive at work announcing her recently made decision though. As lovely as the blood red roses were, she wasn't that keen on either flaunting her relationship, or having Harry know she was involved with another man. Tearing her eyes away from the flowers, she looked at his office, saw him standing looking at her with inscrutable eyes, then the blinds closed. She sighed, wondering why it still hurt this much. She wanted to not feel whenever she thought of Harry. No feelings beat being hurt over and over again any day of the week.

Her computer beeped with an email alert and she turned her attention away from the men in her life to focus on work.

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><p>Harry closed the blinds feeling his heart sink. Ruth'd been sent flowers. And not just any flowers, blood red roses. That meant romance. Any other type of flower might not be from an admirer, but red roses really left only one option. He sat down behind his desk, pouring a rather big glass of whisky. He took a large slug, closing his eyes for a moment before thinking. Only one answer came to him. He'd lost her. She'd given up waiting for anything to happen between them, and if he were being honest, he only had himself to blame. He'd made two huge mistakes. The first was foolishly proposing at a funeral. He couldn't blame her for saying no under those circumstances. And instead of trying to make it up to her, he'd gone around ignoring her for the last two months. Because his pride had been hurt and he'd begun to think that waiting for the two of them to finally be together was a little pointless. He loved her, but he didn't know how much more he could take. And if she were getting flowers from another man, then maybe for them, it was truly over. That thought was a horrifying one, so he took another drink.<p>

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><p>Late that night, Ruth yawned and knocked on Harry's office door. It'd been a long day, and she needed to go home and catch some sleep. Ever since her roses had been delivered Harry hadn't emerged from his office, so she hadn't spoken to him.<p>

"Harry?" she said, opening the door. "I'm done for the day. I'm going home."

"Mm," he said. "To admire your flowers no doubt." His voice was heavy with sarcasm and Ruth moved to close the door, still in his office.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea he would send flowers here. I wouldn't have… flaunted him that way in front of you."

"How does… this mystery man know where you work?" he asked, looking at her. Ruth bit her lip as she saw the pain in his eyes and felt another wave of guilt consume her. "Clearly you must trust him if you've revealed your job to him. How long has this been going on?"

Ruth considered her words carefully before speaking. "As your employee, I don't have to answer those questions." Harry turned away from her, sighing as he did so, but she wasn't finished. "However, personally, as you and me, I feel I owe you an explanation. Harry, it isn't serious. I went to dinner with him last night, that's all."

At those words he turned to her again, looking deeply into her eyes, as if daring her to lie. "He works as one of the doormen downstairs. It's how he knew where I worked."

Harry felt a slight lessening of the tension inside him. It wasn't serious then. Just a casual dinner. It still hurt, but it would have hurt more had she fallen in love with another man. "Harry, would you say something?" He'd been quiet for a few minutes, because he didn't know what to say. "At the risk of letting myself be hurt, I don't want…" She sighed, shook her head then tried again. "I didn't want you to see those flowers. It wasn't my intention."

"I know that," he said. "Ruth, you don't have to explain yourself to me. You don't… I mean… you said no to me."

"Harry, I said I wouldn't marry you," she reminded him. "I didn't say I didn't want a relationship with you. Nor did I ever say I didn't care for you. Look, this is just… pointless." She shook her head and turned away from him. "Look, I'll see you tomorrow." She was making a complete mess of this, some time away from Harry would do her good. Why did she never say what she meant to in front of him?

"Ruth, I will never buy you red roses," Harry said heavily, looking at her directly.

"Right. Well, thanks for being so blunt," she said after a slight pause, begging herself not to fall apart in front of him. She could not cry, she'd wasted years of her life wanting a man who, to all appearances had never cared. "You could have told me that years ago," she said. "I'll just go." She turned and her hand was on the door knob when she felt his presence behind her and she turned around. He stood much closer than she expected and she had to look upwards to reach his eyes. Hazel eyes which were brimming with emotions she didn't want to name. Especially after what he'd just said.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he said. "I'd never buy you red roses, because you don't like them. You prefer yellow roses, but really, you wouldn't want roses at all. You'd prefer lilies."

"How do you know that?" she asked quietly. He was perfectly correct, but she couldn't fathom how he'd know that small piece of information about her.

"I know lots of things about you," he said. "I've been paying attention. For example, I would never buy you a selection box of chocolates. You don't like about three quarters of them, so won't eat them. I'd buy you fudge. Or dark chocolate. I wouldn't waste your time with anything else."

"Harry…"

"You don't like sapphires in your jewellery. You love rubies instead, but no one ever buys them for you."

"Harry…"

"I don't want you seeing this man," he said, voice still seductively low.

"Why not?" she asked, wanting to provoke him.

"Because I'm jealous as hell," he said. "I don't like to think about you with another man. I want you to be with me. No one else."

"Why've you never told me this?"

"Why've you never said anything either?" he countered. "Because we're both afraid. I'm more afraid of losing you than not saying how I feel. I love you, Ruth." She could feel her eyes filling with tears, but she wasn't looking away from him for even a moment. He curved his palm around her face, and she gasped. The heat of his palm shocked her and she wanted him to touch more of her. To feel his fingertips on her skin would be a little piece of heaven. She didn't manage to think anything further before his lips touched hers, making her eyes flutter closed. She responded to him eagerly, her tongue flicking against his lips. The kiss was deep, bone shaking and immensely pleasurable. When they parted she shook her head slightly. "You've been drinking."

"I'm not drunk," he said. "I've had a whisky or two, but I'm not drunk."

"Good," she said, a smile hovering over her lips. "Just checking." She leaned forward for another kiss and he smiled before indulging her. Within moments she was pressed against Harry's office door, his body pushing against her. She could feel the beginnings of his arousal and twisted her head away from him to break the contact.

"I'm going home," she said. "Alone."

"Oh?" He didn't move away from her an inch, and she could still feel his body everywhere, making her want to say to hell with it, and sleep with him in this very office.

"I have to. I need to make a phone call and explain that I can't see Robert again. I'm not going to… we're not going to do anything until I make that call."

"Okay," he said. "That's fair." He backed up a step or two, giving her some breathing space and she felt the loss of him immediately. She put her palm over his chest before she could stop herself. He looked at her and she had a ghost of a smile over her face.

"Sorry," she said, before taking her hand away. "I should go."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, voice soft.

"Yes," she said. "Bye Harry." He smiled, watching her go. His eyes didn't leave her until she'd gone through the pods and disappeared. Then he smiled. He'd have some lilies sent to her house tomorrow morning. He should have done that years ago.


End file.
